Yesterday a brand-new sex advice column debuted in the New York Press, and an editor at the paper sent me a pitch, wondering if I would link to it. And because it not only featured answers to questions about the sanitary properties of urine and whether it's "gay" to fuck a tranny, but "I came home to find my live-in girlfriend GIVING HER BROTHER A GIANT BONER", I wrote a post wondering just how Claudia Lonow, a former child star best known for her work in Knots Landing, went about the process of finding such shocking, edgy questions without, you know, having an established stream of pervs like Dan Savage. Well, it turned out she just stole them from Dan Savage. After the jump, the evidence — and my rant about what this means.

My girlfriend and I have been living together for two years, and we're beginning to talk about marriage and kids. I love her, but I'm beginning to be weirded out by her relationship with her brother. They're always touching in each other. Then, one day, I come home and my girlfriend is in her brother's arms on the couch. As soon as I walked in the door, they jumped up, and I saw a clear view of the outline of his boner. They both looked guilty. After he left I demanded to know what was going on. She confessed that they had been having incestuous relations since they were teenagers—and didn't think it was a big deal!

I asked her to move out. Of course everyone—family, friends, neighbors—is asking what happened. And I'm missing her. Am I forcing my morality on her, as she insists?

DUMP HER! Dump her and wash your body with that shit they washed Meryl Streep with in Silkwood! Oh, and, by the way... is there statutory rape involved? I bet Elliot Stabler would say, "yes" and punch a cement wall and Mariska Hargitay's eyes would well up and Ice-T would be all, "Damn! White people are crazy, yo."

Seriously people... there is a thing as too much tolerance of other people's perversions. Let's all make an agreement: we don't fuck our dogs, we don't fuck babies, (Africa, I'm talking to you), and we don't fuck our BROTHER! Is that really so difficult?

Here's one for you: My girlfriend and I have been living together for two years, and we've talked about marriage and kids. Like all relationships, ours wasn't perfect. But what really bothered me was my girlfriend's relationship with her brother. They were touchy-feely in a way that felt inappropriate. Two weeks ago I came home and found my girlfriend in her brother's arms on the couch. They freaked at my sudden arrival and jumped up, providing me with a clear view of the outline of the boner in his pants. Guilt was on their faces. After he left I demanded to know what was going on. At first my girlfriend insisted that I had a dirty mind. I told her that I recognized a boner when I see one, and she confessed that they had been having incestuous relations since they were teenagers - and didn't think it was a big deal! I told her it was a huge deal to me because (A) she's cheating on me, (B) she's cheating on me with her brother, and (C) EWWW.

I asked her to move out, which she took very badly. Of course everyone - family, friends, neighbors - is asking what happened. I'm also seriously missing the woman I thought would be my wife. Am I forcing my morality on her, as she insists? Or is ditching her a no-brainer? I can't even think clearly anymore. Is this a case of DTBFA - dump the brotherfucker already?

- Serious Incest Since Teens Appalled Him

What is with the incest letters lately? Was the incest taboo rescinded, and only SISTAH and I failed to get the memo? Motherfuckers, brotherfuckers, fatherfuckers - just reading the subject lines on my e-mails is giving me screaming nightmares. Eesh.

Listen, SISTAH: Dumping the brotherfucker was the right thing to do - a no-brainer, a definite case of DTBFA. Would you want the future mother of your children to regard incest as anything other than the taboo-to-the-tenth-power that it is and, if I have anything to say about it, always will be? And don't worry about your ex-girlfriend's future prospects - there's a guy besides her brother out there for her somewhere. Google can help her find a guy who has both a cuckold and an incest fetish, i.e., the kind of guy who is not only turned on by the thought of his mate being unfaithful, but would find it extra-special nifty if his wife was cheating on him with her own brother. That guy ain't you.

As for your family, friends, and neighbors, refrain from telling them the whole truth - your ex has enough problems without everyone knowing she's a brotherfucker. But when you're asked why the two of you broke up, SISTAH, you have every right to say that she was cheating on you with another man.

Kinda kills her credibility as to the origin of queries like this doesn't it?

Every time I watch ESPN or Spike TV I see these commercials for Enzyte "natural male enhancement." Does that shit actually work? Not that I'm small or anything, but I'm a divorced, middle-aged, chain-smoking, overweight single guy that lives in a trailer park. The only things I've got going are a steady job and a car that runs (most guys in this park don't have either). The only girls I can get are the crack whores that live here (of which there are tons). I'd love to land a normal woman but don't know what to do. I figure a few more inches downstairs wouldn't hurt, especially if all I have to do is take a pill every day.

I'll spare you her sage counsel.

This is pitiful and ridiculous and makes me wish I didn't even have to pay attention to this shit for a bunch of reasons, namely that when I emailed New York Press editor David Blum about this yesterday he got all up on his high horse, initially responding:

i don't plan to be censoring questions just because i don't happen to like the question.

Ugh. You know what? You guys are idiots. I don't spend a lot of time critiquing the alternative newsweekly industry, which like the rest of the print industry is dying a slow death, namely because I grew up thinking alt-weeklies were some sort of salvation or anyway they got all the concert listings first but whatevs, and yet. And yet it is shit like this that is why they are so fucking irreversibly irrelevant. Editors who will spend fifteen minutes crafting a self-righteous response tailored to making a critic feel like a prudish Christian Coalition sex-negative asshole or whatever will fail to spend .23 seconds googling their fucking sex columns, or a minute and a half inquiring about the origin of their shocking, too taboo for the glossies! subject material. You know what, dude? I used to work at one of those phone sex call center whose pervy ads found a refuge in your pages/pay your bills. I would say I've heard it all, but on the basis of the wild spectrum of crazyass fantasies and batshit scenarios I know for a fact that I have not heard it all. There is always something weirder, sicker, more hilarious, more disturbing. But disturbing/sick/seamy/shocking/outrageous ≠ interesting. I encourage you to check out porneskimo to corroborate this fact.

At this point I'd rather read your answers to Ann Landers. That, at least, might be useful.